Aches
by nutm3g
Summary: After so long of picking himself up between countless defeats, was Jack finally about to meet his maker? Or will a suddenly soft-hearted Chase rip him from the bitter clutches of death? And why?


**I've been feeling really melancholic lately, so I decided to delve deep into those thoughts that may or may not exist in the back of Jack's mind.**

* * *

><p>Have you ever looked at someone and realized that no matter how hard you wished for it, no matter how hard you tried, you could never be by their side? Jack knew the feeling. The tightness that began in the chest before it expanded to a more hollow sensation. The misery that cloaked the entire being in a melancholic veil. The constant train of thoughts that invaded the mind and left one with nothing but restlessness all through the day. Chase Young would never even acknowledge the teen as another being, never mind as someone of worth. And it ached. Jack knew that no matter how many times he would sink down to his knees and serenade the much older man with compliments and sweet words of praise, Chase wouldn't so much as spit in his direction.<p>

"Sorry, Wuya. I won't be coming back tonight."

His voice was hoarse, pain wracking his throat everytime he tried to speak. After all those years of pushing himself just beyond the limit that everyone had predetermined for him and picking himself up after countless defeats, Jack was at the end of his rope. He'd managed to reach a newly-activated Wu before _anyone_ else had even arrived to the area, only to step on a patch of weak earth and fall through to the cavernous, bitterly cold underneath. The fall was a rush to the head, leaving the technician unable to react in time before hitting the hard ground with an earsplitting crack. His helipac was destroyed from the impact, half-smashed to cracked bits beyond repair underneath a motionless Jack. For a few minutes, he was unresponsive. Dahlia bloomed around his head like bleeding paint and stained the already red locks of hair a much.. deeper color. His skin, so opulent and fair, had begun to resemble that of a corpse after a while since the bleeding began. None of the monks took notice to their dying opponent, completely oblivious to his presence as they swooped in for the Wu and took their leave. It would have helped if Jack were concious. But by the time he came to, the only being in the area was him.

Half-lidded eyes slowly peered about what was to be his grave, tears welling up in them before quickly rushing down pallid cheeks. The warmth of the tears was such a contrast against his icy skin. The loss of blood took quite a lot out of him. How fragile the human life was. Like a feather lightly drifting through the air, in constant danger of being ruined by the brutal whips of wind or drowned by the angry currents of the ocean. Not like an immortal. Not like Chase. Ah, Chase... Was it a coincidence that, during his last moments, Chase came to mind? It was nice to think about, at least. Thoughts of the muscles that must've carved the man's frame underneath all that armor helped distract Jack from the pain. And closing his eyes helped him to better visualize it instead of seeing blurred colors from the aches that constantly pulsed through his body. Yes, pale lips, long, dark locks of hair; Chase was a majestic creature. And if Jack couldn't ever have the chance to get one of the only things he ever really wanted, well... the least he could do was imagine it. How long was he stuck in his world of lighthearted imagination? Did his eyes ever really open, was Chase actually there, or were his eyes still closed? It was hard to tell. Then again, everything was.

* * *

><p>Slit hues watched the still being spread out on the floor below him. How long had Jack been here? The faint sound of a weak pulse told Chase that the human was still clinging to life, but barely. His resolve was probably slipping. Inhaling sharply through the nose, nostrils flaring as he did, the dragon warrior bent to gather the dying human into his arms, silently gazing down at that pale, seemingly lifeless face as he willed himself back to the domain that was his. Spicer would have to pay him back for this. Eventually.<p>

* * *

><p>Sounds. Warmth. Relief. Have you ever woken up feeling so.. so refreshed after going through so much pain? Jack was. The air seemed cleaner, almost crisp and bubbly as the redhead sucked in a huge breath of it and stretched his thin arms out before him. This bed was so comfortable, it <em>couldn't<em> have been a hospital bed. And that's where he should have been, right? He did, after all, remember the little accident he had. Where was he? His eyes creaked open carefully, as though afraid to see just who had found him. The vision that greeted him was warm, alluring. Dark red and emerald and gold filled the room, painting every piece of furniture and cloth with the colors and others that complimented them. The bedsheets covering him had to be pure silk, and the fur covers, well.. he could only assume they were real. Whoever stumbled upon him had _money._

"So you're finally awake," came the deep grumble from the figure who sat straight across from him. Chase lounged in a rather comfortable-looking recliner, the back of it bent so he could comfortably slump in the seat. By the looks of the dark circles underneath the man's eyes and the silken robe loosely hanging on his body, Chase had beem awake for sometime. And instead of thanking him like he should have, Jack could only stare. He must have been staring for some time, though, because the older of the two finally released an exhasperated sigh before forcing himself up and stalking over to the bed. A warm palm pressed to Jack's forehead and a look of contemplation overtook the dragon's face.

"... No fever," he mumbled, eyes staring off in some direction that wasn't anywhere near Jack's. Without another word, he turned to take his leave from the room.

"... Wh-... why..?" The word must have sounded so broken and meek, maybe even tugging at the dragon's heartstrings as he paused in place. His head turned a bit, showing he acknowledged the single word from Jack. Was he dead? Was he dreaming? Was Chase really taking care of him- No, had Chase _**saved**_ him? Surely, whatever god was up there had been keeping watch over Jack and deemed him worthy enough of having his own, little slice of paradise. Because even if this was nothing but an afterlife that reflected his desires in life, it was still enough to bring a smile to those pale, cracked lips. Regardless of the bruises that littered his small frame, Jack scrambled out of bed and practically threw himself at the man, ready to shriek with delight when strong arms enveloped his being.

"You remind me of someone," the dragon murmured, eyes wandering down to meet the glowing, dahlia hues of the fragile one. It was when he looked at Jack that Chase thought of himself. Of the hardships and the pain and the defeat he went through when he was still human. Being around the technician only reminded him of his weaker days and, well, it always left a sneer on his face. But seeing the boy crumpled on the ground in a heap of shame and defeat and so close to death... Even he felt empathy in that moment. Not that he'd ever mention it. Maybe one day. But not today.

"Fool," Chase breathed out in a last mumble, eyes closing as he nudged his lips to the side of Jack's temple. Maybe this would be a mistake in the long run. Right now, though, Chase didn't care. Jack would be _**his**_ fool for now.


End file.
